


Always

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: Flufftober 2020 [16]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angry Aziraphale (Good Omens), Angst, Arguing, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Blood, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Depressed Crowley (Good Omens), Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Drinking, Drunkenness, Emotional Crowley (Good Omens), Friendship, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Pre-Relationship, Spanish Inquisition, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Aziraphale investigates the Spanish Inquisition, which he was told Crowley was responsible for
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Flufftober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952344
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for drunkenness, and the consequences thereof.

Aziraphale walked through the dark streets, wrapping his cloak around him in a subconscious attempt at security. Gabriel had warned him that his adversary was up to something in Spain, and Aziraphale, who had been in Russia at the time, became concerned. He had heard about what was going on, and was horrified that Crowley could do such a thing. Crowley preferred to strike at the higher-ups, monarchs and nobility, but the less fortunate? Although Crowley was a demon, Aziraphale couldn't see how Crowley could be capable of such evil. 

He passed by a cantina, where a drunkard was passed out against the wall. Aziraphale frowned. Well, perhaps he could help this unfortunate man. 

He knelt beside him, and patted his shoulder.

"Excuse me, good sir-" he began slowly. 

The man stirred, and Aziraphale got a good look at his face. He gasped.

"Good Lord, Crowley!" he exclaimed, gripping the demon desperately. 

Crowley didn't seem aware, and just stared past him. 

"Crowley, you can't be here," Aziraphale hissed, thinking of all the holy objects that littered the city. 

It was fanaticism, and it was dangerous for a demon. 

Crowley didn't seem to hear him.

"Sod it, Crowley, snap out of it!" he shouted, and slapped him across the cheek. 

"Hi, angel," Crowley said drunkenly, his head lullying slightly.

"You utter idiot!" Aziraphale nearly shouted, pulling the demon up to his feet. 

Crowley teetered, and Aziraphale had to hold him up. 

"You're going home. Now." 

Aziraphale led Crowley to his flat, and slammed the door closed behind them. 

Crowley hiccupped. 

"Always!" Aziraphale growled, his anger fueled by his fear. 

"Always getting into trouble, one way or another." 

He fumed, and took a deep breath to calm himself. 

Crowley began to cry ugly, alcohol-induced tears. 

"Why are you crying?! This is all your fault, isn't it? Always scheming, aren't you?! Real smart, demon, using God as an excuse for your villainy," Aziraphale sneered. 

"Nnnott my fault," Crowley slurred, and keeled over.

"Of course, you're just the messenger, aren't you?" Aziraphale said sarcastically, but he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps the demon was telling the truth. 

Crowley clutched his stomach, and vomited onto the floor. He sniffled, and groaned in pain. 

Aziraphale was conflicted. He thought he was friends with Crowley, but Gabriel had said that Crowley even received a commendation for the Inquisition. And Crowley looked so pitiful, and he really seemed anguished over something. But he couldn't ignore the evil his lot had committed. 

He sighed, and gently wiped Crowley's face with his handkerchief. 

"Crowley, what's gotten into you?" he asked softly. 

"Humans are monsters," Crowley croaked through tears.

"They _are_ capable of great evil," Aziraphale had to agree. 

"Didn't even know what the Inquisition was. Had no idea who Torqui-Tori-, well, you know. Him. Didn't know who that bastard was until I got a commendation. And whaddya know, the humans thought it all up themselves," Crowley continued bitterly. 

Aziraphale looked away shamefully. He felt terrible for even thinking Crowley would have anything to do with the Inquisition. 

"It's always the sssssammme madness," the demon said as blood and bile dribbled from his mouth. 

He wiped it away with his sleeve. 

"So you thought you could drink away the pain?" 

Crowley nodded guiltily. 

"At least Hell won't bother you for some time," Aziraphale said in an attempt at comfort. 

"Whoop-dee-doo," Crowley replied sadly, devoid of energy. 

"You're bleeding," Aziraphale observed nervously as more blood dripped from Crowley's mouth.

The demon coughed. 

"What elssseee is new?," Crowley answered weakly. 

Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably. 

"You should get some rest," he whispered sympathetically as he helped him to his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> Humans can be terrible....


End file.
